Daniel In the Den
by dragontauras IVI
Summary: When a Government agent comes recruiting for a new military project in orphanages around London, he finds a very special boy. Hadrian. His extraordinary talents are prized by the crown, and he is utilized as a british super weapon, Codenamed White Lion. "I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion." -Alexander The Great.
1. Origins

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to harry potter. Or the avengers,

And you thought the lions were bad

Well they tried to kill my brothers

And for every king that died

Oh they would crown another

And it's harder than you think

Telling dreams from one another

And you thought the lions were bad

Well they tried to kill my brothers

And felled in the night

By the ones you think you love

They will come for you

And felled in the night

By the ones you think you love

They will come for you

**-Bastille**

Prologue:

The child was in pain. Unbearable pain, from the open bleeding wound on his forehead. The lightning bolt-shaped cut was still fresh, dripping blood into his hair. He cried out, whimpering. His small breathes created whirling wisps of steam around his head, and they moved to and fro through the cold night air. The child stopped his wailing for a moment, looking up the little patterns his breaths made.

To any bystander, the shapes the little boy's breaths took would seem impossible. There, in the night sky, framed by stars, were images in total clarity. A beautiful lily flower and a majestic stag.

A dog running, a wolf howling at the moon, and a rat hiding. Laughter pealed from his mouth, and he reached for the steamy clouds, with his eyes sparkling and his face smiling. Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and he resumed his crying, frightened at the loud noises coming from inside the house.

The pictures in the sky faded, and the boy continued to bawl. "Petunia, what on earth are we supposed to do? We can't keep the damned boy… You know very well what he is, and what he is capable of. He could hurt Dudley." A bony, long necked woman bent down and picked up the screaming child, passing the note to her husband. She shushed the baby, and looked at him with a sweet smile, all the while cooing softly.

" Vernon, we can't very well leave him out here to die. He is as much your nephew as he is mine." Petunia hugged the baby close, and suddenly realized something. "Vernon, we could keep him. He could grow up alongside Dudley, and they could be as brothers are. We could steer him away from all the freakishness his parents practiced. Raise him to be a proper young man, and hopefully cure him of his dreadful… illness. Vernon, are you listening?" She looked at her husband confusedly, and saw that he was reading the letter she had handed him.

"What does it say, dear?" she asked. Vernon always had something to say, and him being quiet like this was starting to scare her. "Vernon?" she asked again, unsure of what was causing his reaction to the piece of parchment. He finally looked up from the letter. " Petunia, this child is a… well, you know better than I do. We cannot keep him.

I suggest we take him to the town orphanage, and drop him off. He may be your nephew, but I do not have the money, or the space to afford another child right now. Those stupid people who dropped him off here didn't take any of that into consideration. I cannot pay for it. I know it makes me sound horrible, but he would most likely be shunned in our home. He is not one of us Petunia. He is not normal" Petunia stared at her husband of three years. She had never seen him this calm bout anything. She would have expected him to go red in the face, and start yelling.

She just couldn't help herself and asked him. "How are you so calm about this. I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and your not even sweating. What's gotten into you?" He grimaced slightly, and let out a tremendous sigh. "Whatever my temper, I happen to respect family. I also know my limits. I depend on normalcy. It's all I've ever known. If we accept this child, we are dooming ourselves to never be normal again. Always to be associated with his freakish kind. I cannot live with that." She nodded, guiltily agreeing with him. "Let's take him to the orphanage Vernon." She said tearfully, not even knowing how much she would change the world, just by this decision.

/0000000000/

St. George's School for Boys was a slightly run down orphanage, next to a dilapidated old train station, just on the outskirts of London. It had been there for many years, and was one of only a few buildings left standing after the blitz.

Its coal-stained walls were dark grey, giving it a depressing air. The windows of the place were slightly grimy, and the grass out front and back was just on the verge of being unkempt. Twenty-three boys currently lived there, ages one to seventeen. They weren't the happiest bunch, nor were they the most well behaved children around. The caretaker, Mr. Caudwell, was a grumpy old man, but he did care for the boys.

His wife, Mrs. Caudwell on the other hand, loved children, and always played with them. She specifically loved one boy in particular, Hadrian. He was the best mannered of all the boys, and got along with them just fine. He was well read, lanky and tall for his age, and he loved to play around with the others. All normal attributes for a nine-year-old child.

However, she always saw something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. She had always known he was very curious and he had proved that when he asked to be taken to the library at age four. She had been delighted, as all the others under her care just wanted to play around in the yard. Over the years, he had read his way through the smallish library across the street.

He had also done extremely well in his studies. He was always top in his class, no matter what the subject. That was all good and well. It meant he was smart, but nothing more. But then the odd things started happening. One of Hadrian's friends broke a vase, and the next minute it was fixed. She had seen the pieces, and seen them come back together.

She didn't get either of them in trouble, and they both had been so happy. Another time, they had all taken a trip to the zoo. The reptile section was highly demanded, and so they all went in. Soon after all the boys got bored, and went to see other things. But not Harry. No, he had stayed, almost as if he was listening to the snakes talk. His attention was solely on the reptiles, and he didn't leave the room for three hours, when it was time to go. There had been other smaller incidents, and then there had been the luck that they had all encountered.

The orphanage had been doing badly in the finance section. But then, out of nowhere, they had found money scattered around the yard randomly. It was a miracle. Yet, the members of the staff were all suspicious, as thefts had been reported all around London. The police questioned all the boys, and they had all been cleared. The people had never gotten their money back either. It was as if something had summoned the money away from the people, leaving no trace or evidence of a theft. Mrs. Caudwell shook her head, and thought no more on it. These things couldn't have been connected, and not by the sweet little boy named Hadrian.

One year later

It had been a truly spectacular Christmas this year. All of the boys had gotten presents, and there had been joyous shouting in the house for days after Boxing Day, as the boys all enjoyed their gifts. On the twenty-ninth of December, a man in a suit had come to the orphanage to adopt. He had been touring around for hours, meeting with the different boys, before meeting Hadrian. They had a nice conversation, about Hadrian's favorite football team, and about who he though would win the Barclays league, before the man shook his hand, and left.

He didn't return for a week, and when he did, he brought another man to meet Hadrian, forgoing all the other boys, just to see him. The other man was more distinct than the man in the black suit, which he was wearing again. This other man was an older gentleman, with his hair graying slightly, and hard lines in his face that prominently displayed his piercing ice blue eyes, enhancing his harsh features.

He wore a pressed grey suit, which looked highly expensive, and had introduced himself to Hadrian as Johnson. After a few hours of almost the same exchange he had with the black suited man, Johnson smiled at Hadrian, patted his shoulder, and told Mrs. Caudwell to make the arrangements necessary for adoption. Hadrian was in a state of complete shock. He had never expected to be adopted, not in his wildest dreams.

He shook out of his daze to thank Johnson, but he had already gone. Mrs. Caudwell had tears in her eyes at the blissful look Hadrian gave her. It warmed her heart to know that this bright young boy would be taken care of. She scooped him up into her arms, and laughed happily with him, as they both relished the moment. He then wiped his tears away, and steadied himself.

"Thank you so much, for everything, Mrs. Caudwell." He said with a trembling voice. She grinned at him. "You should go pack your things Hadrian. That nice Johnson man is coming by at nine sharp tomorrow to pick you up." They embraced once more, and he went to recover his possessions from under his bed, embracing the other children as he went along. He would miss them; after all, they were the only family he had ever known.

But now, he was going to have a true family, with people who loved him.


	2. In Captivity

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the Avengers… If I did, I would be a billionaire.

AN/ so, I am trying to update and tweak the beginning of the story, so please be patient with me. Its coming together, but still in pieces. Thanks!

Daniel in the den

Chapter 2

Johnson smiled smugly at his chauffer, Gregory, as they both hopped into their black Mercedes C class, to drive away from St. Georges School for boys. As the car pulled out of the small parking lot there, Johnson entertained himself by imagining how he would be rewarded for the services he had provided to his country. A knighting perhaps? Maybe a medal or two.

Perhaps even a large bonus. The possibilities were endless, and he had, it seemed, gotten his meal ticket. Johnson pulled out a small device from his jacket pocket, and placed it on his lap, while reaching for his laptop. He pulled a USB out of this rectangular device, and inserted it into his computer. Johnson uploaded all of the information, and then took a look at it.

"Gregory, how on earth did you manage to find this boy? He is perfect for the project." He skimmed over the various inconsequential details of the report, but then got into the juicy stuff. "Now lets see here. Portable Biometric data scanners. Magnificent little things, aren't they?" He clicked on them, and pulled out his reading glasses. "He contains massive amounts of energy in him, almost enough to power London for a few hours. That's remarkable! The good doctor will be so happy to have this boy for his little experiments.

This is untapped potential Gregory. This is the key to the next age. Great Britain will certainly have the upper hand with this young man." Johnson was ecstatic. He might get more than just a bonus for finding this little diamond in the rubble. "Gregory, speed up chap. We are on a schedule. The prime minister will want to hear about this."

Gregory looked at his employer, and smirked. He knew nothing of the new age, or what it had in store.

/

At nine sharp, Hadrian was outside the door of the orphanage, waiting nervously for his new adoptees to pick him up.

After a few minutes, a black SUV stopped in front of him, and the man he knew of as Johnson opened the door, and invited him. "Come in Hadrian old boy. There's a good chap." Hadrian waved once to everyone at the orphanage, before he got in the car that would carry him to his new home.

He was excited, beyond belief. But he was also scared out of his wits. He had this feeling that something was being hidden from him. Something big. He started fidgeting, and Johnson looked over at him. "Its all right my boy. Don't worry. Were going to have a great time." Johnson's feral grin when he said that did nothing to assuage his feelings of regret at getting adopted.

He had always trusted his gut, and now it was telling him to jump out of the car while he still could. The man who had first visited him, the man in the black suit, was looking at him curiously in the mirror. He knew he had no course of escape, so he steadied his breathing, and pushed his feelings of unease to the back of his head. The rest of the trip seemed to drag on for hours, and when they finally stopped inside of a parking garage, Hadrian was glad. He had been getting carsick, and wouldn't want to throw up all over Johnson's things.

That wouldn't help him now. As he got out of the car, he had the sudden urge to dash. The appearance of a squad of fully armed military personnel deterred that feeling quickly. Johnson smiled thinly at the young boy. "Sorry my boy. But, you know, you will be serving your country, your queen, and your fellow man." He snorted sarcastically.

"Enjoy it" Were the final words he said, as he departed short after in his big black car. The line of police broke, and a man in a stark white lab coat walked through. He seemed ancient, with white hair to match his coat, wrinkled skin, and beady dark eyes. Then he spoke. " Hadrian. It is Very good to meet you. My name is Dr. I am sorry to inform you that you are not being adopted today. We here at MI7 need test subjects, and you fit our criteria just perfectly. I have also heard that you have immense amounts of power flowing through your veins. Good. We will help you unleash it on our enemies. As of this moment, you are now property of the crown of her highness, and under the express orders directly from the prime minister himself, you are to be weaponized for service to your country. Will you cooperate?"

Hadrian was about to run, about to scream for help, when he felt dizzy, and nauseous all of the sudden. As he fell to the cold ground, he felt the cold poke of the dart on his back, and heard Dr. Anderson laugh lightly. "Nice try Hadrian. You shall make a feisty test subject, wont you?" with that, his eyes closed shut, no longer being able to hold up the immense pressure pushing them down.

/

He awoke to a rhythmic drumbeat sounding inside of his head. It rang like a gong inside the confines of his skull, reverberating back and forth, and hurting quite a bit. He opened his green eyes, and looked around to take in his surroundings. The events of well, who knew how long ago, were still fresh in his mind, and he was wary of the armored soldiers again coming and shooting him with darts. His room was light grey, with a single window off to the side of him. He was lying down on a very thin cot, and his body ached like nothing he'd experienced.

He was dressed in some strange material; just a long sleeved grey shirt and pants combination. A sink was in the opposite corner of the room, next to a toilet. Hadrian almost cried. Almost. He had heard that you couldn't show weakness to other people who held power over you, or else they would take advantage of that power. So Hadrian did the only thing he could think of. He went back to sleep.

After a few hours, a young scientist waked him, if his clothes were anything to go by. The man didn't talk to him, only handed him a plate with a sandwich and crisps. Hadrian was wary of the food handed to him by the stranger, but he figured that they already could have killed him, and didn't need to use poison to do it. He devoured the meal, while watching the young scientist curiously.

After he was done, the man handed him a tall glass of water and some pills. Hadrian immediately panicked, but the man calmed him down harshly. "If you don't take these willingly, then I will be forced to drug you once again, and make you take these, understand?" Hadrian clamped up, but did as he was told. After a few hours feeling nothing different with him, he was convinced that these people wanted to keep him alive. At least there was that. He shivered slightly as his feet hit the cold floor. He had to be strong, and brave.

There was no way this was legal, no way the government would allow this. Hadrian fell asleep repeating that fact, and the mantra gave him a tiny bit of hope, a feeling of strength.

/

It had been three weeks since his arrival at the facility. Every day had been the same, waking up with the sun, being fed food and vitamins, and then made to sleep. He had seen some changes in his body though. He was more muscular, even though he wasn't doing any physical activity. His mind was running faster than normal, and he was more aware of everything. His sense of smell, his eyesight, and his hearing had all improved to something above the norm for humans. Hadrian guessed it was those pills they had been feeding him with every meal.

Although he had been in captivity, it had been more like being forced to sleep all day and eat his time away. They had started giving him puzzles, riddles, and little challenges to help his brain connect thoughts quicker. All of the work he was putting on his brain had sent it into overdrive, putting him into an almost surreal state of being, where he was thinking twenty times faster than he used to. He solved math problems that people twice his age hadn't yet figured out. He read books, and absorbed the knowledge inside them like a sponge.

In his mind, he knew they were going somewhere with this mental training, he just didn't know what the final destination was. But on the first day of his fourth week, everything changed. He was woken up, but not by the very familiar scientist he was used to.

This time it was a short haired man in workout clothes. "I am to be your physical trainer." and with that, he started running out the open door. Hadrian yelped, and got up to run after him, not wanting to find out the sort of punishments the man could have for him if he disobeyed. Hadrian was confronted with a large gym like area in front of his cell, that he hadn't left since he got there.

Then it hit him. He was free from the cell. He sighed in relief, and then saw his new trainer standing there looking gruff. He ran to the workout area, and did what the man told him to do. Sit-ups, push-ups, running, pull-ups, and stretching. By the end, he felt as if he could sleep standing up. there wasn't a muscle in his body that wasn't sore. But he was happy. His new and improved body had lasted through out the entire workout, and he was proud. It was not an easy feat to do so, but he had persevered. Hadrian smiled slightly to himself, before collapsing onto his cot in exhaustion.


	3. The beast inside

Daniel in the Den: chapter 3

Hadrian looked at the syringe with disdain. It had been three months since he had been brought to the facility. It hadn't really been that bad, until the experiments on him started.

Dr. Anderson was unforgiving, and did not care about how much pain his subjects went through as long as he got his results. Now, he saw the good doctor, with one of his infamous concoctions waiting for him. Hadrian nodded to the man, and sat down. The Doctor cleared his throat, and motioned to the sloshing liquid in his hand. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

He was smiling slightly, scaring the wits out of Hadrian. He shook his head no. "This serum took me ten years to obtain and reproduce. It was something the soviets used on their soldiers to dull their nerves to pain. I would not waste it on you, but the director has demanded it." The doctor motioned to the metal chair in the middle in the room. He sat down heavily, warily anticipating how much pain he was going to be in.

"This will only hurt a bit Hadrian". The slight sting of the syringe felt like nothing compared to the intense burning sensation that came afterwards. He felt like he was on fire, combusting slowly.

Hadrian thrashed around on the floor, trying to put out the non-existent flames consuming his whole being. Meanwhile, the doctor was taking notes. His pencil was scratching out hurried words on his paper, as he wrote his thoughts down. Suddenly, there was an immense roar from the test subject. Dr. Anderson looked up, confused. The serum was only supposed to cause him nerve pain, not injure him.

In front of him, Hadrian was on the floor, gasping for air as he writhed around. Dr. Anderson watched amazed, as his test subject transformed. White, wiry, coarse hair protruded from his skin, and sharp claws ripped from his fingers and toes. Teeth sharpened to a deadly point, and eyes were turned into catlike green orbs. An animalistic roar sounded through the room, finally ripping the doctor from his scientific bliss long enough to get him running out of the room.

This was extraordinary. Absolutely amazing.

They had never imagined that Hadrian was already gifted. They had been enhancing his body through their own means, trying to make him a superhuman weapon, when they hadn't even seen his true gift. He had been superhuman all along. He just hadn't unlocked it. Dr. Anderson slumped against the wall, laughing his ass off.

They had named his experiment White lion, to symbolize the British government, not literal in any way. His codename, Leos, had been nothing less than a derivation of that.

Now it seemed that it was destiny. The doctor pulled himself up, and looked through the glass on the door to Hadrian's room. Inside, there was no human. There was only a very rare, and extremely dangerous white lion. He pressed his radio, and called the head of security. "Yes. Yes, of course I know what happened. Send me twenty men. We need to sedate experiment Leos before he finds a way out of his room. I understand. Thank you."

Dr. Anderson let out one more boisterous laugh, and walked towards his quarters. He needed a brandy.

/

Gregory watched the video feed silently, intent on not missing one detail. In uncovering this boy, he had set something in motion. He still did not know what. He reached for his cell phone, and dialed a special number.

"Yes sir. I understand. You have seen the footage I sent you? Yes sir, I understand that the sensitivity of this mission has gone up. Yes sir, mission code Lima Zero Zero One is now of highest priority."

Gregory hung up. Then he got right back to work. "Yes Mr. Johnson, I have your tea right here sir." He said, as he bustled off to be Johnson's butler again.

/

Hadrian opened up his closed eyes to a pitch-dark room. He was in a simulation room, practicing his newfound abilities, and trying to find his limits. Ever since the doctor had injected him with that serum, he had changed.

He was barely recognizable anymore. His black hair had turned snow white, and his teeth had sharpened. His eyes were now catlike all the time, allowing him to see in pitch-black darkness. Everything had gone better as well. His trainers, who remained nameless, started teaching him advanced martial arts, gave him weapons training, and drilled strategy into his mind.

They were slowly digging into his very being, extracting all that he was, and replacing it with the perfect weapon. He was taught languages, math, sciences, and history. But all of that seemed inconsequential, next to the testing he was going through with the doctor. Now that his power had been uncovered, Dr. Anderson had been training him to be able to unleash his inner beast at a command.

He still had to be angry, but it was starting to get easier, and was going along with less pain. He had also been growing at an alarmingly fast rate. He had gone from a slightly skinny nine year old, to a lean, tall, well muscled ten year old.

He was now about five foot eight, and weighed about 110 pounds. Hadrian shook his mind of these thoughts. They were clouding his mind from the objective. He knew that if he failed in these tests, Dr. Anderson might try other, more unpleasant methods, to bring forth his power. In the dark, he saw a ring, more than forty feet away, and he slowly walked towards it. Hadrian watched his steps for traps, or levers, or pressure pads that might be in his way.

As he got closer, he heard a whirring. He stood stock still, trying to find the source of the sound, but found none. Then it dawned on him. He had been so intent on watching his step in front of him, he had never thought to look behind him. As he slowly turned, a beam of light erupted from the opposite wall, and came straight towards him. He dodged it, but was left blind, as his eyes had to adjust back to the darkness from the blast of intense bright light.

Hadrian knew he was done, but tried one last desperate attempt to escape unscathed. He let his inner animal flow through him; ooze out of his every pore. The transformation was painful, but brief. Hadrian now stood as a four foot tall, 9 foot long, and 550-pound albino lion. His eyes adjusted more quickly, and he smartly dodged a blow from a robotic fist.

The lights turned on suddenly, utterly disabling Hadrian's eyesight. He focused on his hearing. It was his last resort. The slight scraping of gears across one another sounded from his right. He ran forward to dodge, and heard the smash of the fist into the ground.

Hadrian listened for any more sounds; worried another attack might soon follow up. But instead of the metallic clacking he would here if there was an attack imminent, he heard clapping. Human clapping. Hadrian let his anger go, and calmed himself to the point where the lion receded, leaving him panting on the floor. Transforming for more than a few seconds always exhausted him. The man clapping stopped, and reached down to Hadrian to pick him up off the floor.

As he took a moment to look at his face, he blanched, as the man was a very strange sight to behold. His skin was so white, Hadrian assumed he was albino, and the red eyes did nothing to discourage his train of thought. The man was like a living ghost, so pale that you could see his purple veins pumping blood through his body. He also had a blood red scar that stood out like a neon sign on his otherwise unblemished face.

It started from his left eye, and worked its way down to his chin in a straight line. And then he spoke. "Well I cannot say I'm not impressed, operative Leos. You seem to have thrived here at MI7." Hadrian cringed. The man's voice sounded like he was gargling with shrapnel. Then he smiled, twisting his scar to stretch it even more across his pale face. "Where are my manners? My name is classified, but you can call me the director. Everyone does."

Hadrian grimaced at him, putting the pieces together. "You're him. You are the one responsible for putting me through this. This is your fault!" Hadrian steadied his breath. The director was saying something, but Hadrian didn't hear him. All he could hear was white noise, and all he could see was red. Everything around him was completely blocked out by the white-hot rage burning through his body.

He ached to kill this man, to feel sweet revenge as he paid for everything he had made him suffer through. It didn't take long until the animal was in control, baying for the Directors blood. He lunged at the man, already transformed, claws aiming for his jugular.

He didn't get far. It looked as if the director was expecting an attack, and had pulled out a device with a button on it. He pressed it, and Hadrian stopped, confused. Suddenly he was electrocuted, as if from the inside out, and he fell to the floor, helpless. The director watched Hadrian writhe around for a few more seconds, and then he took his finger off the button. "This nifty little invention is something we called 'The Collar.' It can be remotely activated from anywhere in the world to stop you. And I hold the remote. Now. I have other matters to attend to, so I need to be perfectly sure you understand one thing. I own you. You are mine to command as I see fit, an asset of MI7. If I tell you that you wont eat for a week, you will not eat. If I say that you will see no sunlight, you will damned well be sitting in the dark. If I tell you to drown yourself, you will do it. You have no choices, no options. Only orders. You will be assigned to missions to protect queen and country, and you will do it exactly as you are told. Do you understand?"

Hadrian nodded, still twitching from the electricity in his body.

"You will train until I tell you otherwise. You are dismissed." Hadrian got to his knees as the director was leaving, with his hope of ever leaving the service of MI7 being destroyed by a single conversation.

"Oh, and Hadrian, one more thing. If it gives you any consolation, the work you will do will save many lives. A sort of sacrificial lamb, in a way. You should be honored." He said, chuckling as he departed.

Hadrian collapsed.

He was to be nothing but a weapon, to be used and discarded once he had outlived his usefulness. It was the first time he had cried since he was at the facility.


	4. The First of Many

Daniel in the den Chapter 4

Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore sighed, as if the weight of the world was on top of him. He stared at his majestic phoenix, Fawkes, pleading, as if asking the bird to help him with this problem. He then turned his pleading gaze onto Severus Snape, his potions professor. " Severus, you must have been mistaken. There is no way that Harry could not be there.

The wards have not wavered, to this day, and Mrs. Figg has reported back on him weekly." Snape snorted. And then he turned to his older companion.

"There was no Harry Potter living at Number 4, Privet Drive. Let me ask you a question. Did the dear Mrs. Figg perhaps say that Harry potter was a rotund little blond boy, not the sharpest tool in the shed?" Dumbledore wondered where Severus was going with this. He nodded, and motioned for the professor to continue. "I talked with the Dursley family, and they said that the boy in question was their son, Dudley Dursley."

Dumbledore laughed out loud. "Good one Severus, you almost had me, old friend. Now how is Harry? Did you tell him of his heritage, as I told you to do?" he asked. Snape sighed, and took out his wand. "I give my word, upon my magic and my being, that Harry potter neither lives at Privet Drive with his aunt and uncle, or exists according to the British census."

There was no way. Albus sat up straighter in an instant, all traces of mirth gone from his eyes. " In the name of Merlin's sweaty underwear, how could this be possible? My devices are all functioning properly, and my tracking charms still indicate he is living with his relatives." In an instant, the great Albus Dumbledore seemed to age twenty years. He then turned a glare on Snape.

"Tell me how this is possible. We need to find him! He is the only protection our world has from the Dark Lord." Severus sneered, and shut the old wizard up quick. "Why did you never check on the boy then? To make sure your precious boy who lived was still even alive?" Albus stared at him guiltily, and then shook his head. "This isn't about me Severus. Right now, it is of utmost importance to find Harry. What are your thoughts on the wards? You inspected them yourself."

"It is my thought on the matter that if young harry had never even been brought into the house, the wards might have latched onto some other magical, mistaking it for harry, and therefore not alerting you or your sensors. I did some further investigating, and it turns out the Dursley's boy is a squib. Your precious blood wards latched on to the wrong infant." He said smugly. Dumbledore frowned, and sat down heavily at his desk. Snape frowned, but turned his back on the wizened old man. "I have essays to grade. Headmaster, although it pains me to say this of Lily's child, I wouldn't expect to see Mr. Potter here at Hogwarts this year. He most likely didn't receive his invitation, if he is even still alive. Goodnight Dumbledore."

As Snape exited the headmaster's office, he heard shouted profanities, and the shattering of glass from Dumbledore's direction. Severus shook his head in disgust, and silently prayed that Lily's boy was all right, wherever he was.

Three years later

Somewhere in the Scottish Highlands: MI7 Complex.

Hadrian had not left the compound in four years. He was now fourteen, and a highly trained agent of MI7. Almost half of his life had been dedicated to his training, and the honing of his skills. As he threw knives at targets, he contemplated what life would have been like had he not been adopted that day, that seemed so long ago. Hadrian dismissed the thought immediately, focusing on his aim. After he pulled back and threw, a man came into the room.

"The Director wants to see you." He said. Leos nodded, and looked at the four remaining knives in his hand. He wound up and threw them all, each hitting a different bull's-eye. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he followed the faceless grunt to the briefing room. Hadrian was confused. The only reason he would be taken to the briefing room was if he was receiving a mission.

He shrugged, and decided to wait and see what the Director wanted from him. As Hadrian entered the room, he saw the Director, and a few other men. They had seen military service, but weren't involved in the armed forces anymore. He was now extremely intrigued. The newcomers all looked at him expectantly, but all he did was look back at them emotionlessly.

One thing he had learned above else was that if you showed your enemies your emotions, they would use them to take advantage of you. He had also learned that everyone was your enemy, no matter what. You had to respect everyone, but fear him or her as well. The director looked on, proud of what he created. Then he cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen. You came to me for a reason, and that reason is standing in front of you. So tell him what you came here for, so we can get this little _issue _over with." He said haughtily.

The first man, who was sweating a great deal more than he should be, nodded quickly. "Yes, yes of course. I am Commissioner Stanley, head of the city of London police force. Director, you did say he has extensive urban combat training, did you not?"

The director nodded, and replied back in a smug voice. "Yes. Our weapon has been trained in all arts of death. And I am not saying this to brag, but he is extremely talented at what he does." The commissioner smiled thinly, and continued. "Recently, we have had some problems with a few extremists. They have been stirring up a panic, and we need their leader gone. You know the saying, 'cut off the head, and the body will die'?"

Hadrian glanced at The Director when the man said that. He was acknowledged with a slight smile from him. "Well, that is exactly what we want to attempt." He continued. "The man we want to eliminate is named. He has organized nasty mass killings in Yemen, set off explosions in the middle of London, and killed thousands of people. He is extremely well protected, and we can't get to him. That is where you come in, agent Leos. We need your, well, your talents, to erase this man from the face of the earth." Hadrian nodded grimly, not feeling, not thinking.

The director nodded at him, telling him without words that Amar Al-hanza was now destined to die by his hands. At least it was someone who had innocent blood on his hands. For months, Hadrian was thinking he would be the one with the innocent blood on his hands. He was about to leave, and prepare himself mentally for his mission, when the man next to the commissioner started talking.

"In exchange for his services, we would be interested in donating substantial funds to MI7. And, I just want to make something perfectly clear. I don't just want Al-Hanza dead. I want you to send a message to people like him, and his compatriots. They're playing with the big boys now. Understand?" Hadrian nodded again, realizing that this was going to have to be messier than a knife to the throat.

He stood from his uncomfortable seat, and turned on his heel towards the door. Just as he was about to exit, the director grabbed his shoulder. Hadrian turned, and stood still as the director examined him closely.

"I see the weakness in you, even though you try to hide it. I can smell your fear like a shark smells blood. If you are to survive these missions, you need to bury your fear completely. Fear is not necessarily a bad thing. It is a warning that what you are about to do is dangerous. Once it has warned you, it is no longer of any use. At that point, you are to discard your fear, do you understand agent Leos?" he asked. Hadrian closed his eyes, and emptied them of all emotion. "I am not afraid Director. You must have been mistaken." The Director smiled. "Good try, Hadrian. Now, go and see what the men in development have for you. This is your first real mission, and so, you deserve the weapons to complete it effectively. You can thank me later."

He walked off, leaving Hadrian on his own. Like any other boy, he was excited at the prospect of presents, and ran for the research and development lab as fast as he could.

ÆAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAÆ

Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains.

Director Nick Fury was having a bad day. He hadn't had this bad a day since he lost his eye.

"Shit". He rubbed his good eye, before looking down at his assembled agents.

"Now, who in the hell was going to tell me about MI7? Nobody? What about project 'White Lion'. Was anyone going to tell me about that? How about their Super powered operative? The so-called agent Leos. What about him!" He asked in mock politeness.

"Why did I have to find out about this from a conversation we intercepted from HYDRA?"

His hands curled into fists, and he let out a pent up breath of air. "We are supposed to be the best. I've recruited you, because you are the best. So why does everyone know about this but us? We are the first to know!"

Fury closed his eye, and thought of ways to resolve this little slip up.

"I need a chopper to the Pentagon now. Alert the President, and all the Secretaries. And get me agent Travers on the phone. Now!" he yelled furiously. "I needed these things last week people, so get a move on!"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

London

The first thing Hadrian noticed about the little café was how normal it was. It was almost disgusting to him, to see all these people laughing and having fun. He tried to imagine what he could have become had he not been kidnapped.

What he would have been like as a teenager. Hadrian looked down at the clothes he was wearing, so different from the pants and bottom he usually wore. His whole body was uncomfortably contained in the pressed pants, button down shirt, tie and jacket schoolboy ensemble he was wearing.

Would this be how he was dressed day after day? Would this café be where he ate with his friends? Hadrian reached to his scalp to scratch at the short cut, midnight black hair. These thoughts were useless.

They were angering him, making him feel sad. Emotions only diluted the mission. Hadrian shook his head, and looked down at his arm. His sleeve had ridden up, and he pulled it back down to conceal the lines all over his forearm, scarred by the surgical knives of the good Dr. Anderson.

He chuckled mirthlessly under his breath. He was no teenager. He was barely even human. He was just a weapon, molded for one thing. As Hadrian's thoughts started to wander, he shut down his mind, focusing on the mission at hand, and shoving aside his emotions to deal with later.

He covertly looked around the room, trying to spot any discrepancies, but all he got were chatting teens and adults drinking coffees. Soon, his eyes caught sight of the target. The Director's briefing had mentioned this café as a place he frequented. Amar Al-Hanza was a handsome man in his thirties, with close-cropped black hair, and a stylish moustache.

He came with four guards, all of whom were easily recognizable by their all black business suits, and their burly appearances. As they sat down, a waitress came to take his order. He smiled politely at her, and asked for decaf. He didn't need any extra stimulants in his system to mess him up. She smiled back, and went to get it. As she did, Hadrian continued to study his surroundings, and his target.

He knew that the henchmen would be no problem, but he was slightly concerned over Amar himself. The file on him showed extensive training in combat and marksmanship. The waitress came back with his coffee, and he sipped on it thoughtfully.

There was no way Hadrian was stupid enough to assault Amar out in public. It was too risky. So he thought of the options available to him. From the café, Amar usually went back to his Kensington home, where he stayed until the next day.

The man always had a routine, and Hadrian would use that to his advantage.

A/N: How is it so far? If you have any comments, suggestions, or concerns, please PM me. Thanks so much!

-DragonTaurasIVI


	5. Emergence

Chapter 5

Last time, On Daniel in the Den:

**There was no way Hadrian was stupid enough to assault Amar out in public. It was too risky. So he thought of the options available to him. From the café, Amar usually went back to his Kensington home, where he stayed until the next day. The man always had a routine, and Hadrian would use that to his advantage. **

Daniel in the den

Chapter 5

Hadrian slowly dusted the rubble off of his torn prep school uniform. The capture and assassination of Amar Al-Hanza had been much harder than expected. Hadrian suddenly jumped, and dodged a bullet that would have impacted his leg.

The job, that seemed so simple at first, had escalated to the point where he didn't know if it could be done. Amar Al-Hanza had many more guards than anticipated, and when Hadrian had attacked as they left the cafe, it had been a slaughter.

All of the four guards protecting Al-Hanza had been terminated. But, Hadrian had been a little hesitant, and the man had gotten away with his driver. He knew that Hadrian had to attack again, or else the whole mission would be blown. So, Amar had decided to host the battle on his own turf.

Forty terrorists at his compound, and they all were armed with heavy firearms. It was virtually impossible, but Hadrian specialized in that. He had spent half the night scouting out the compound, and preparing the best plan of attack. Hadrian's green eyes glinted, as he pulled his specialized knife out of its pouch. It was nine and a half inches, with a straight edge, and a nasty point.

It was dull on one side, but deadly sharp on the other. He called it his claw.

It was ironic, he knew, but the Director had insisted. Now, it had kind of stuck. Hadrian weighed it in his hand, savoring the cold titanium like it was fine wine. Wasting no more time, he pulled out a small chip from his 'school bag'.

Then, he crept towards the door, following a guard who was on patrol. As he slipped in and turned on the alarm, Hadrian smirked. All was going to plan. He slipped his 'claw' into the crack in the compound door.

As he jimmied the lock, a guard approached him from the left. Hadrian sighed, and took a small metal spike out of his bag. Hadrian muttered an apology to the life he was cutting short, even if the man was a terrorist, and threw it with deadly accuracy. The spike struck the man in the neck, ending his life quickly. Soon, Hadrian got the lock open. As soon as he did, the alarm went off.

He took his chip, and stuck it onto the alarm, where it shut the screeching down. After that, it was quite simple to infiltrate the base. Hadrian dropped his bag on the floor, and dug through it to find his COM device. He activated it, and put it to his ears. "This is project Lima headquarters. What is it?" A voice said into his ear. Hadrian kept on the lookout for terrorists, and replied silently.

"This is agent Lima Echo Oscar. Connection code Alpha Romeo 670. Get me the Director." There was silence on the other side, until Hadrian heard a chilling voice.

"Agent Leo. How nice of you to call. Could you tell me why exactly your risking this kind of security breach to have a chat with us?" Hadrian grimaced. The director wasn't going to like this news. " I think my cover was blown. They knew I was coming." Hadrian heard a sharp intake of breath, before there came a reply. "Agent, you will finish your mission, using whatever means necessary. Then you will be picked up at a certain location that will be disclosed to you if you survive and complete your mission. HQ out."

All he heard after that was static, and he cursed. Hadrian put his ear-com back in his Bag, and got up. He had his ultimatum, and if he didn't complete his mission, the director was clear what would happen. Hadrian sighed, before an idea struck him. He smiled, and walked out into the lighted corridor without a care in the world, yelling for them to catch him.

He was captured almost immediately.

After being beaten by the guards, they took him to a room, where they said Al-Hanza would meet with him. Just as he had wanted.

After a few hours of silence, a man came in, smiling as if he had just celebrated his birthday and Christmas combined. His name was Johan. A Swiss mercenary hired by the terrorists to be their muscle.

And he certainly was muscular. He must have been six four, with a clean-shaven face and head. His light blue eyes contrasted with his tan skin, and his teeth sparkled brightly in his mouth. "Hello little man. You are a little young for assassin work, no?"

He asked mockingly. Hadrian didn't reply, and his face showed no emotion. However, on the inside, he smiled. He had dealt with the doctor for years. How could a small bit of torture hurt after all the experiments he had endured. That was before the Swiss man took out a glock. He wasn't going to torture him; he was just going to kill him outright... This was bad.

Hadrian was planning to use Johan's torturing of him to appear weak, before striking out and killing his prey. Of course, that would not happen now. Johan smirked slightly, as if he knew what Hadrian was thinking.

"Little operative, I have been thwarting assassinations since before you were born." Hadrian started to smile, showing no fear. His broken jaw leaked blood, and covered his teeth in red. Hadrian than closed his eyes.

As the director had told him, there was no place for fear in his mind. It was a warning, and was of no use to him after the fact. He smiled in the face of death. And then the man pulled the trigger. Hadrian felt nothing. That was what confused him. He opened his eyes, and what he found surprised him. The bullet had ricocheted on something, to hit Johan in the forehead.

Hadrian stood, confused. He had already cut through his bonds the minute he had been tied up.

On what was the bullet reflected? It seemed as though something had just appeared, and saved him. Not questioning it further, Hadrian recovered his bag, and continued on inside the compound, troubled by the strange turn of events. He was completely prepared to die, and had accepted his fate. He heard footsteps approaching, and smiled gruesomely.

Hadrian focused his anger, and went through the short, but painful transformation into his animal form. This was going to be bloody.

Two black SUVs approached a boy in a pair of bloody shorts, sitting on a park bench. He looked as if he was fine, but had a few bruises and scratches on him. As the cars arrived, he said nothing, and got up to get in. Unexpected however, were the black uniforms and eagle patches on their shoulders. Hadrian raised his eyebrows. This wasn't MI7. This was SHIELD. The Americans.

Hadrian chuckled slightly, before he sprinted away, towards a more crowded area of the park. He knew that SHIELD considered themselves the 'good guys' so they wouldn't harm civilians. He zigzagged through the park, avoiding tranquilizer darts, and nets alike. He reached inside his tattered school bag, and got out four little pellets.

Hadrian threw one at an approaching agent, and the other three at the ground in front of the other operatives. He watched from afar as the smoke consumed them, and he laughed. The director would be quite pleased to hear of this. Hadrian then turned, and walked towards a stall selling clothes. He snagged a jacket with the London Bridge on it, and a pair of pants that looked about his size.

He then went into the bathrooms and changed, while washing the blood off of his face and upper body. The scent of copper was still pungent all over him, but it wasn't as defined as before.

Hadrian splashed some more water on his face, and pulled his newly acquired jacket over his head. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiling a bit at his mostly normal appearance. His short cut, jet-black hair was dripping, and the open, bleeding cut on his jaw stood out against the backdrop of his pale skin.

If he hadn't just had a run in with a terrorist cell and a government agency, he would have looked like a teen that just got into a school fight. Excellent. Hadrian pulled his good over his head, and exited the bathroom to the sounds of sirens and shouting SHIELD agents. He smirked, and started walking towards an open cab. "Can you take me to kings cross?"

He asked politely. The shadowed cabbie nodded, and he got in.

What he didn't expect, however, was the cab suddenly stopping after a few miles, and the driver turning around with a gun in his hand. "I think the road stops here for you, Agent Leos."

Hadrian frantically pulled his knife, but, as the saying went, he had brought a knife to a gunfight.

In this confined space, it wouldn't be as effective as a gun either. He took a little bit to study his capturer. He was an African American man, well built and tall. He had an eye patch. Of course, it had to be Fury that caught him. He was the master spy. Even his secrets had secrets. Hadrian sighed, and wished beyond anything that he were back at the Directors office at MI7.

He was desperate. He knew that Fury would show no mercy in trying to find out about MI7s operations and experiments. Hadrian breathed deeply, and wished to be at the secret compound. Hadrian opened his eyes, expecting to be looking down the barrel of Fury's gun.

Instead, he was staring at the Directors surprised face. "Leos? How did you get in here? How did you bypass security?" He was getting angrier each second. Then, it seemed as if he had come to his senses quickly, and he turned quickly to his computer, shutting the cover.

Hadrian knew he wasn't supposed to see it. He knew that it wasn't meant for his eyes, but he took a peek anyway. And when he did see what was on the Directors laptop, he blanched.

This wasn't good. Not good at all. As the Director shut his computer, Hadrian categorized the things he had seen.

The schematics and formulas only could have been made for one thing. It scared Hadrian to his bones. He wouldn't be able to survive something like that. "Hadrian, you escaped SHIELD. I am glad, but we last received your transmissions from a park in Kensington. How did you get here without us detecting you? Better question still, how did you manage to find this secret base?"

The director was studying him for any reaction, his cold stare suddenly making Hadrian shiver. "I swear Director, It was like I just appeared from thin air. I was in a car with Fury, and I wanted to be here. I don't know how I got here. It's unexplainable. I'm sorry. I have no idea what happened."

Hadrian got the surprise of his life when another man spoke in answer to his statement.

"Perhaps I can help you gentlemen and your agency understand what happened out there. It is my specialty, after all."

Hadrian turned, and saw something that made his heart race.

A tall man in a cloak stood about five feet away from them, Shadows hiding his every feature.

It seemed as if death itself had crept into the Director's room.

A/N so sorry it took me so long to update, but I had some serious issues I had to contend with in the story. Hopefully now, I can get on with uploads every few days. Thanks!

Sent with Writer

Sent from my iPhone


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